


your love for them won't last long

by Sabulum



Series: i wanna ruin our friendship [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Kara Danvers, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealousy, Lena's thirst - Freeform, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Light Angst, Minor Kara Danvers/Mon-El, Mon-El hate, POV Lena Luthor, Pool & Billiards, Pre-Relationship, background Superfriends, background sanvers, canon adjacent, copious use of metaphors, the moons are definitely lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabulum/pseuds/Sabulum
Summary: Lena's crush on Kara was hopeless for a multitude of reasons: Kara was probably (possibly?) straight, she was dating a frat boy, and she was Lena's best (only) friend in National City. Then, to add to the list: Lena banished Kara's boyfriend into space. And she wasn't even sorry about it.—2. Jealous!Lena (In which Lena can't decide whether she likes pool or space metaphors better, but she does know that Kara is too good for her.)
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: i wanna ruin our friendship [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785322
Comments: 26
Kudos: 216





	your love for them won't last long

**Author's Note:**

> I beta-ed this one even less than usual, so... apologies for any errors! Title from [Jenny](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhdhyzLXS28) by the Studio Killers.
> 
> Also, anything that looks like it might be me throwing shade at the CW is _definitely_ me throwing shade at the CW.

Lena was genuinely convinced that Kara was straight. Straight as a goddamn arrow. Painfully, disturbingly so.

It was the only way her attraction to Mike made sense.

James would get a pass if she were considering "repressed lesbian." He was stunningly attractive, and a trusted friend. Also a co-worker. An excellent choice of partner. Just the right level of unattainable.

Hell, even Lena's failed attempts at flirting hadn't excluded the possibility of "oblivious bisexual." She'd hoped that her initial, "straight as an arrow" impression was misguided, and, in her defense, there _had_ been glimpses. Little comments. Lingering looks at other women. Lingering looks at _Lena_. Things that had ignited the faintest spark of hope for Lena's hopeless crush.

But then, Mike.

"Of the interns."

How could anyone who had a choice in the matter be attracted to such a fuckboy?

God, and a woman like Kara had a world of choices at her feet. She could have had anyone. (She could have had Lena. At her feet, or on her knees, or above her—literally any which way she pleased.)

Lena couldn't imagine what Kara saw in the frat boy currently locked in a drinking contest, laughing uproariously as he slammed his thirteenth shot in a row. Alex stood motionless, bent over the pool table in the middle of lining up a shot, glaring across the room at the noise. James and Winn had gone from impressed to embarrassed over the course of two minutes. Even Kara's patience was waning at this point, the crinkle taking up pointed residence between her eyebrows, and she looked one ill-placed comment away from breaking up the game herself.

Mike was so far beneath her that it was sickening.

"I feel like I'm back in Phi Beta Delta," Winn summarized neatly.

Lena drank the last of her scotch and elbowed Alex in the ribs harder than necessary. "Take the goddamn shot, Danvers."

"He's doing enough shots for all of us." She scowled, but obeyed, lining up again with a put-upon sigh. "Five ball in the corner pocket."

Her aggressive combo sunk the five _and_ the one, and the ricocheting cue ball scattered all of Lena's stripes to the ends of the Earth, leaving her stranded. That eleven was practically in the mesosphere. She'd need a satellite to line up a shot, it was so hopeless.

Lena cursed under her breath and chalked her cue, trying not to take it as a metaphor for her love life.

"Should I go talk to him?" Kara finally asked, her concern making itself known when Mike laughed at some whispered comment, offering a fist-bump that knocked another man off-balance.

"No," Lena said flatly.

Kara looked up. Lena redirected her glare from Mike toward the uncooperative pool table.

"He's an adult," she elaborated. "You're his girlfriend, not his babysitter. Let him throw up in a potted plant and then pass out in the employee bathroom on his own terms, like the rest of us."

Kara stared at her with wide eyes, and Alex gave an impressed nod.

"Um..."

"Well said, Luthor."

Lena ignored Kara, ignored Mike's shouted comment about "respecting chicks, man!" and lined up her shot with the precision of a NASA engineer.

"Eleven," she said. "Side pocket."

She sank it on the rebound.

— — —

Kara was almost certainly straight. Right?

As much as Lena would prefer to think she was only with Mike because it was easy, because he was relatively nice and interested and _there_ —that wasn't Kara's style, was it? She was confident enough in herself that she wouldn't settle like that. Right?

And she was definitely not into women. Especially Lena. At all.

Right?

God, sometimes Lena had to wonder.

When Kara turned up to their lunch date with her hair in a messy bun, wearing chinos, that fucking leather belt, and the most fitted navy blue button-down that Lena had _ever_ seen—

Well, it could give a girl the wrong impression.

Or the right one?

 _God_. Lena didn't know. How was Kara so fit when she subsisted on nothing but junk food? Where did she find the time for a work-out routine? And why was that tendon in her neck so distracting every time she put her hair up? These were all equally important questions.

"Lena? Are you okay?" Kara's gentle, worried tone cut through her inner monologue, and Lena realized she'd been silent for too long. Kara was standing beside the table.

"I'm fine, why?"

"You're kinda just... staring at me."

Lena met her gaze levelly, sweating more than could strictly be blamed on the outdoor seating. "Just thinking."

"Oh, okay. About work, or about that new pancake special they posted to the window?"

Kara waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Definitely neither."

Kara laughed, then took the seat not shaded by the umbrella, beaming like she always did when it was just her and Lena, together, on what could potentially be misconstrued as a date. Her messenger bag—another confusing signal—ended up halfway in a rose bush, but Kara didn't seem to mind as she settled in to bask, comfortable despite the triple-digit temperature. Lena tried not to stare at the cut of her shoulders in that shirt and mostly failed.

They bickered about Lena's workaholic tendencies, and Lena praised Kara's newest article on wage inequality. Lena was distracted by the brilliant blue of her eyes—which, she justified, was a perfectly normal thing for a friend to notice, so she made no effort to stop it. Then there was a moment's reprieve while Kara oohed and aahed over the updated menu.

Lena ordered another mimosa and progressed to trying not to stare at Kara's forearms where they rested on the table.

What happened next, Lena blamed on the fact that it was 102 degrees out (and Kara's long sleeves were giving her sympathy sweats). One second she was fantasizing about reaching across to unbutton her sleeves, platonically. The next second she blurted, "You look really hot today."

Kara blinked, glasses poking up over the top of her menu. What was visible of her face flushed. "Oh. Um..."

Lena considered qualifying her statement, but decided against it.

"Right, yeah! Of course! 'Cause it's so hot out. Long sleeves." Kara's laugh sounded forced. "I guess I just blocked it out, y'know? The, um. Heat. Hold on, let me—"

She fumbled her menu then unbuttoned her cuffs, and Lena, who was already staring at her forearms, had a split second with which to brace herself. Then Kara was folding the fabric up in neat, crisp lines and, wow, she really _was_ muscular, huh. There was another tendon for Lena to fixate on. Had she somehow never seen Kara's bare arms before? Or was it just the addition of the rolled-up sleeves that did it? They made it _much_ gayer.

Lena chugged her mimosa reflexively.

"There. Better, right?" Kara grinned brightly at her.

"Yes, that certainly did something," Lena agreed.

Kara seemed pleased.

They finished lunch without further incident, even if Lena had to channel all the composure she normally put into her board meetings into behaving like a proper, strictly platonic friend.

She considered asking if Kara knew what "soft butch" meant, but ultimately decided against it.

— — —

Then it turned out Mike was an alien whose mother wanted to invade the planet.

So. There was that.

— — —

Lena was a terrible person for three reasons.

First: she was a Luthor. Self-explanatory.

Second: Kara, her best friend, was, she thought, probably straight. Straight enough that Lena's attempts at flirting were useless. Straight enough that Lena fantasizing about kissing her was impolite. Straight enough that Lena should not have had a prioritized list of body-parts she wanted between her teeth. Straight enough that fantasizing about that tendon in her forearm straining for Lena's benefit was—well, it was rude. Objectifying Kara should've been illegal. Lena was going to be arrested if she stared at her ass one more time.

Third, though, and most genuinely disturbing: Kara's boyfriend had been banished from the face of the Earth, almost entirely as a result of Lena's actions, and Lena was _happy about it_.

She would never, _ever_ tell Kara. Seeing Kara lose a partner when she had lost so much already—her birth parents, her adoptive father—tore a hole in Lena's chest proportionate to Kara's heartache, and Lena scrambled to provide whatever comfort she could. She took time off from rebuilding the city, from directing her company, to support her dearest friend. When Alex was busy and Kara seemed down, Lena was there with ice cream, and when Kara asked for her, Lena dropped everything to pick up bad Chinese food. She put L-Corp second for the first time in her life, and she crushed her unwelcome attraction like a gnat. It was the least she could do.

Because Kara's heartache was her fault.

Lena had never felt so wretchedly selfish. Not all those times she'd wished to have Lex back; not when she'd sent her own mother to prison; not even when she realized how well and thoroughly Rhea had played her. This was different. This was _petty_ , and it felt as terrible as Lex's vendetta against a different alien. Lena had banished her rival for Kara's affections into space, and if she had the chance to do it over again? Even if the fate of the world weren't at stake? If she could drive away Mon-El specifically?

She might.

(She wouldn't. God, she wouldn't—the only thing worse than seeing Kara with another was seeing her in pain—but the fact that it was even a question had Lena terrified.)

— — —

When everyone could finally make time, on a Tuesday of all things, they wound up at the bar again: Kara, Lena, Alex, James, and Maggie.

Kara seemed unhappy with the choice of meeting place. All night, she stuck close to Alex, keeping a cautious watch over her alcohol consumption; all night, Alex rolled her eyes and nursed a single beer. The conversation flowed easily, but it was a thin facade of normalcy, and Lena felt the cracks in it each time they danced around a subject or referenced a place that had been destroyed in the attack. It didn't help that James kept trying to subtly ask whether she was okay.

She wasn't, of course, but in what universe would she tell _James Olsen_?

Perhaps this one. Just not yet.

She did not tell James. With the ease of conditioning, Lena avoided all sensitive topics and drank too much red wine, and it was mostly fine.

Crammed into a booth beside Kara and Winn—Maggie claimed Alex's side immediately, and James rolled his eyes and joined them—they ate shitty bar food and talked about nothing of import, and it was fine. It was packed for a Tuesday, but the bustle was almost comforting, providing a safety net of background noise for when Alex trailed off tiredly or Winn tripped over Mon-El's name. And—Lena didn't know whether Kara held a grudge toward Supergirl for her part in things, but the hero's name was danced around just as artfully, and it had Lena knocking back alcohol like it was an Olympic sport.

Lena was afraid to ask questions, or even to consider it in too much detail. Because if Kara held a grudge against a goddamn _superhero_ , what did that mean for Lena? How could she blame Supergirl for pressing a button and not the Luthor who designed the weapon itself?

Everything felt wound-tight and Lena's shoulders ached with tension. She avoided looking at Kara as much as possible. She crammed her stupid, god-forsaken crush into a box and lit it on fire, and she drank, and it was _fine_. It was all fine.

The moment her singular beer was finished, Alex demanded a rematch. Lena, not one to back down—and looking for an excuse not to be pressed up against Kara any longer—bought out the pool table from a group of sharks with a crisp $100 bill.

"Damn, Luthor," Maggie said.

Lena polished off the last of her cabernet and shrugged.

"What's the point in being rich if you don't throw cash at all your problems?" Alex asked rhetorically, then snatched up a pool cue with a hint of swagger. "Mags. You're with me."

"Aye aye, cap'n."

"I'm still going to kick your ass, Danvers," Lena informed her, for fairness' sake.

"You wish."

Lena claimed a cue of her own and switched over to scotch.

They wound up playing one-pocket instead of 8 ball, which Kara professed equal confusion about. James took it upon himself to try and explain the rules, which Lena quickly realized he did not know. As they played, she interrupted him with frequent shouted remarks, the addition of hard liquor loosening her tongue until she had him spluttering and laughing in equal measure. Winn, a terrible pool player, dragged Lena's team down until they and the Sawyer-Danvers combo were actually well-matched—but that only heightened Lena's pool shark proclivities. Luthors were fiercely competitive.

Lena still won.

She hid her smile behind her drink, ignoring Alex’s squawk of protest. "Told you."

"Rematch! One more! You and me, Luthor, one on one. No teams."

She tipped her glass in a salute. "If you insist."

James and Winn slunk out at some point with a halfhearted excuse. Alex shook her head in mute disappointment and sank another ball with pinpoint accuracy, the cue ball ricocheting back to sow chaos and discord among its fellows.

" _Damn_ it, Danvers," Lena cursed. "You've got a knack for playing defense."

Alex's grin was shit-eating, unapologetic, and somehow fond despite that. "What can I say? We all have our strengths."

Lena circled the pool table to assess the damage and shook her head disgustedly. As before: Lena's stripes were practically in orbit, all her good shots blocked. "Fuckin'—Deep Impact pool tactics, fuckin'—asteroid avoidance over here. Jesus Christ. Twelve in the corner pocket."

She sank it, but scratched in the process. The string of vulgarity that she let loose afterward would have made even Lillian flush.

"The mouth on this one." Maggie whistled, impressed.

Alex buffed her nails on the front of her shirt with an infuriating smirk. "Yup. Sore loser. It's like playing Kara, except she's got the vocabulary of a sailor instead of a 1920s boy scout."

"Hey!" Lena and Kara protested simultaneously.

"And she doesn't scratch as often," Alex added. "Kara sucks at pool."

Lena shook her head, backing off to the sidelines so it wouldn't be as obvious when she propped herself up on her pool cue to remain upright, resolving to remain out of this one.

"I do not have the vocabulary of a _boy scout_ —"

"I once heard you say 'jeepers' unironically."

"I'm—that's—you—" Kara gawked at her sister, too indignant to form a coherent reply. It was unfairly adorable. Finally she settled on, "'Jeepers' is a perfectly valid word!"

"If you're Velma from Scooby Doo, maybe."

"Damn!" Maggie cackled, tugging Alex into a gleeful side-hug. "She's reading you for filth, Little Danvers."

"Some sister you are," Kara huffed. "Which one of us is the journalist again? I craft words for a _living_. Anyway, Velma says 'jinkies,' do you live under a rock?"

Alex shook her head. "It's not helping your case that you know that."

While Alex lined up her next shot—and sank it, damn her—Lena closed her eyes so she wouldn’t be caught staring at Kara’s flushed cheeks, wondering how they’d feel if Lena kissed her. Kisses on the cheek were platonic, right? Was it wrong that Lena wanted to know if she felt as warm as she looked?

Boxes, she reminded herself. Shove it into boxes. Escape her orbit.

The game grew heated eventually, as games with Alex tended to do, until Lena found herself suddenly drunker than anticipated, scowling at an almost-empty pool table, ranting in abstract space metaphors while Maggie propped her upright with a helpful arm. Kara and Alex were both staring at her. If she'd been soberer, the frank regard on Alex's face would have made her stop midway through a rant about Newton's law of universal gravitation, her gestures toward Kara somewhat less than subtle given that she was waving a pool cue.

But Lena was not sober.

"I've never seen her this drunk," Kara said. "I should have paid closer attention..."

She ignored Kara's concerned muttering, just as she ignored Alex's pointed; " _She's an adult_ , Kara. She can throw up in a potted plant on her own terms."

Lena lined up a shot, but missed anything of import because Kara was at her side and putting a hand on her shoulder and—and Lena was just startled. It was fine.

"Goddammit."

Kara slid the scotch glass out of her reach without her noticing, frowning with that adorable crinkle between her eyebrows that Lena had to try really hard not to stare at. "Lena, are you okay? This isn't like you."

"I am fine," Lena said dignifiedly. "I am going to crush Alex at pool, and I am not going to vomit."

"Okay. Can I take you home after that, though?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good."

She didn't notice when Maggie squirreled her drink away. Kara's eyes were bright with concern, and it was _very distracting_. They were _very blue_.

After Alex missed her next shot, Lena stepped away from Kara with as much composure as she could reasonably be expected to maintain—which wasn't a lot—and leaned precariously over the pool table. Kara's hand settled on her lower back to support her, and—where the _fuck_ did Maggie go? Her hands weren't nearly as hot for multiple reasons.

"Eleven, corner," Lena choked out, shooting without even lining up properly.

She sank it.

Then, riding a high that consisted purely of jitters, she sank the eight ball too.

Kara smiled at her, hand rubbing a slow circle at the base of her spine. "Nice. That means you win, right?"

"It does."

Lena licked her suddenly dry lips, trying not to relate her love life to pool metaphors. It didn't matter if Kara was single, or not-straight, or if Lena was competitive, or if all her best shots were rebounds because she liked the geometry of it. They were all just thought experiments. Kara was simply too good for her.

And that—it was _fine_. Everything was fine. Lena accepted Alex's ribbing and nodded solemnly when Maggie shook her hand and tried not to sway into Kara's warmth and failed, she failed completely, leaning on her instead because she literally _could not_ support herself. The room was spinning and Kara was solid. Lena was on day however-the-fuck-many of orbiting Kara like a fucking—fucking moon of Jupiter, like—like one of 79 hopeless—

"Why does Jupiter even have 79 moons?" Lena demanded, Irish lilt out in full force, arm slung over Kara's shoulders, Maggie closing out their tabs like the world's best wingman. "That's too many fucking moons. Why doesn't it save some for everyone else? Or just—just let the damn things go? It's not even _doing_ anything with them, they're just—stuck there, circling it—pining—"

She gestured with her free hand, Kara supporting her weight easily with only one arm. The rest of Lena's point trailed off as she frowned at down at Kara's hand on her waist like it had caused her personal offense.

Kara patted her ribs comfortingly. "That _is_ a lot of moons."

"Are you sure we're talking about moons, Luthor?" Alex contributed at their side.

Lena narrowed her eyes in suspicion, trying not to look like she'd been caught out. "What else would I be talking about?"

"Oh, I dunno, I think I have some ideas."

"You don't. _None_ ," Lena informed her primly. "It's not a metaphor. The pool wasn't a metaphor, and neither is space. The moons are not lesbians."

Kara said something that sounded a little like, "Oh, wow."

"Yeah, okay, champ," Alex said, patting her on the back. "Not lesbians. Got it. Let's get you home before your orbit collides with something, huh?"

Her legs felt like jelly, but Kara only pulled her closer when she wobbled, encouraging Lena to rely on her, so Lena gave in and let herself be carried. "I'm on a perfectly stable trajectory, Danvers. Jupiter is a wonderful planet."

"I'm sure it is."

"The moons—they're fine. I'm fine. Valetudo isn't expected to collide with anything for _years_ , and that's only because it's spinning in the wrong direction. Did you know that? Stupid. If I were spinning in the wrong direction, I would simply stop," Lena informed them, deaf to Kara and Maggie's conversation about whether or not Lena needed overnight support. The cold air on her face came as a cruel surprise—since when were they outside?—but she blocked it out by burrowing into Kara's neck.

Kara rubbed her back idly, murmuring reassurances.

It was nice, but... there was a question Lena needed to ask. Something...

"Whose home?" she asked. "Mine?"

"Yeah, Luthor. Yours." Alex's voice was soft, and mingled with Kara's warmth it made her sleepy. "Maybe you should ask Jupiter another time, though."

"That'd be nice."

Lena closed her eyes against the world's chaotic tilt and centered her orbit on the solid, stable presence at her side.

— — —

The next morning, Lena frowned down at her phone for a solid three minutes, at first baffled and then mortified by a 2am text conversation she'd apparently had with Alex Danvers. She immediately decided never to think about it again, locking her screen and taking three Aspirin to combat her headache.

> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [1:58] did you know jiupiter is the 2rd brightest planet in othe night sky?  
>  [1:58] 2nd  
>  [1:59] they romans called it. jupiter, god okf light  
>  [1:59] she has 79 moons  
>  [2:00] thtas too many moons, alex
> 
> **A. Danvers**  
>  [2:03] I know, champ.  
>  [2:04] Don't worry, the backwards moon or whatever already collided. Big explosion.
> 
> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [2:04] akex
> 
> **A. Danvers**  
>  [2:05] You're a much better choice of.... moon?  
>  [2:05] fuck  
>  [2:05] whatever  
>  [2:06] Just give it time, Luthor.
> 
> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [2:07] the mon collision is exjactly the priblem alex  
>  [2:07] mon  
>  [2:08] MOON
> 
> **A. Danvers**  
>  [2:11] jesus christ luthor  
>  [2:11] Just. Give. It. Time.
> 
> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [2:12] ok  
>  [2:18] dose kara know what soft butch means
> 
> **A. Danvers**  
>  [2:19] I doubt it  
>  [2:19] But maybe you should ask her?
> 
> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [2:21] maybe i will
> 
> **A. Danvers**  
>  [2:24] Good night, Luthor. Drink some water.
> 
> **Lena Luthor**  
>  [2:28] night lex  
>  [2:29] thank you


End file.
